


Summer Night.

by Palus_Hiemalis



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Brotherhood, Cunnilingus, Do we still say lemons, F/M, First time tagging help me, One Shot, Oral Sex, PWP, convinient tavern, ezio - Freeform, italian swearing, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palus_Hiemalis/pseuds/Palus_Hiemalis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are an assassin under Ezio Auditore, your mentor, its a warm summer night. After a successful mission you join him dancing in an inn. And then he gives you some oral sex. I'm threatening to do a part two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Night.

**Author's Note:**

> (I really wanted to write a nice cunnilingus scene, you know? Do you get those moods? It was a very specific itch that needed to be scratched.  
> Happens sometime during brotherhood, I imagine. You’re an assassin, he’s an assassin, wumbo. You both get down in an inn. Go nuts.  
> And yes this is totally indulging my foreign language/deep voice kink, and later my chest hair kink if I do a part two; killing two birds with one stone.  
> Enjoy.)

Blam.  
The rickety door slams and wobbles into the wall as he kicks it opens, you snort with laughter as Ezio barrels into the chamber and dumps you on the bed. Such a gentleman. He kicks the door shut behind you, leaving you both in the dark, you hear a brief “Cazzo,” and he fumbles for a match to light the room. You sit up on the bed, your legs dangling over the side and turn to face the window, the sky is indigo drawing over blushing clouds and the starlight is dewy. The curtains make gentle waves in the soft breeze, an olive tree below shivers in the hot wind. Paired with the singing and stomps from below, it seems as if Summer was well and truly here.  
Down in the bar you’d been flirting for quite some time, exchanging double entendres and coy looks from above your glasses. A kiss on the hand here, a squeezed bicep there, it was not long before you managed to coax him into whirling about the tavern together to lilting music and cheering claps from your fellows. You were giddy in his arms by the time the song finished.  
You were both flush with wine; not stumbling drunk, but comfortably merry. The inn keeper was a friend of yours and reminded you both that the top bedroom was open to you, if you so need. Soon after you were scooped up bridal-style as the band began to kick once more and hurried off upstairs. His hands were rough and warm, he smelt of sweat and musk. Now, sitting on the bed, you listened to the music thump through the floorboards as he hunches over the candle. He shakes out the match, hangs his coat on the door hook, his hidden blade is placed on the side table and he marches towards you, hands on hips.  
“What do we do now, Signore?” you say innocently as you try not to laugh, “Is this another part of my training?” You try and keep a straight face, you weren’t one for meekness, faux or not.  
“Oh indeed,” His face was mock stern, he crouches down in front of you, “This is a very important lesson.”  
You cock an eyebrow and he begins to reach for your skirts, his voice still holds a deadly serious tone as he says, “This is a lesson in infiltration.”  
You throw your head back and practically cackle as he dives under the layers of skirts and leggings that formed your assassin’s uniform. He is planting kisses on your thighs, explaining the importance of stealth and negotiating layers of defence, but it is muffled by fabric. You kick off your boots and rest your legs on his broad back for a moment.  
Soon your skirts are hitched up and leggings dragged off and he hums as he coils his finger around the edge of your underwear. He slips them off in a fluid movement, you savour the feeling of his calloused finger tips running down your thighs. A moan is caught in your throat.  
“Bene.” He breathes a growl as he rests his cheek on your thigh, “Are we ready to begin?”  
“Uhuh...” You murmur, mesmerised by the deep thrum of his voice.  
He looks at you from between your legs, raising his eyes slightly.  
“Si, signore.” You correct yourself with a hint of sarcasm.  
He wastes no time and pushes your leg slightly aside as tips you back slightly with with his other hand, before sliding it down your side to your inner leg again. The friction makes you shiver, your eyes settle on his head; eyes closed and thick brown hair, waiting to be clung to.  
He takes a long lick from the bottom of your vulva to the tip of your clit. Hot, slick and deep, it feels overwhelming. Your hands wind into the roots of his hair and you keen for a moment, hips arching, as his tongue presses over your clit. He exhales warm breath over you, stubble tickles you as he starts sucking gently upon you. His lips working gently away to form a seal around the nub, you have to steady yourself on the bed post.  
Your words are stifled by pleasure, “Sign--signore!! Ahhh, please!” Your hands press against his firm shoulders.  
“You want me to go slower?” He asks, breaking away from you, all that is left against you is the prickle of beard and the steady huff of hot breath on the wetness of your vulva. His face is red and his features focused.  
You manage to nod, and trace your hands to his shoulders, you take your legs off his back and hang them off the bed. He smiles and presses against you once more, you feel a throb as he begins again, not realising how long a few seconds had really meant when he’d began.  
He draws long slow licks from the bottom of your entrance once more, this time lingering around the sides and folds before kissing in the centre. You cry out a long trailing moan, your head flopping back, and he clutches you more tightly. Through you he hums low and even chuckles, his voice a steady rumble. His tongue laps at you in long strokes, taking in your scent and wetness. You fall back on the bed panting as he comes up for air, he places his fingers in his lips stead, and you enjoy the smouldering friction of his rough skin on you. His makes loops idly as he pauses and you wriggle in place. You had heard rumours of his... Dexterity, from the way things were looking, you couldn’t wait to confirm them.  
He is on his knees and reaches over you to pluck at some lacing or another on your bodice. He toys with them for a while with one hand.  
“Take over these fastenings, will you? I cannot be doing all the work, here.” You assume he is smirking.  
You pull all that you can loose and lie in a pool of fabric and ribbons. As you take off your own blade you almost fling it across the room as he presses his two fingers within you, slightly widening them as you envelope them fully. You own hands clutch the sheets as he rests his other hand over the top of your mound and pulls your labia slightly apart, and then his homes his tongue onto your clit once more whilst dipping his fingers inside you.  
His movements are more delicate now, letting the tip of his tongue make circles around your clit, every now and then letting it pass over it and feeling your nerves sing. His fingers draw in and out like the tide, filling you momentarily. The sensations work together in perfect time. Your noises are littered by the occasional curse and sigh. You begin to pull the sheets like reigns.  
“I’m getting close...” You say, your voice slightly fluttering, you hold your head up, “Are you sure you wan---”  
He pulls away, and his dark voice melts into you. “Si.”  
His lips meet your clit once more and his fingers push further into you with a more fervent pace, rush of sensation hits you with every press. You trill like a lark as he hunches over you, his hot tongue brushing over you and sparing no inch of your wetness. There is no dancing about, now, he works at your clit with hunger, even nibbling at you for a moment. His hand grip your thigh and pull you slightly towards him, there is an exhilaration to his work. A rhythm works into you and your pleasure starts to burn more brightly.  
“Ez-Ezio!” Your voice falters and you cry out.  
He grunts and applies more pressure with his lips, his finger nails dig into your thigh and you buck your hips. Pushes his finger in as deep as it allow and sucks hard on your clit, as you climax. You make a high moan as he continues to push and lick in rhythm to your pulse. You rattle a long sigh and lose yourself in the sheets, twisting in place like a snake, with one last lick he watches your chest rise and fall and grinned with satisfaction.  
He flops on the bed, huffing with the effort, he falls back with you and talks into your ear, “If you wish to rest, that is understandable, tesoro.”  
You shake yourself awake at his voice, and sit up whilst shedding the last of your skirts.  
“Don’t be so sure...”


End file.
